I can't review books worth a crap, but I sure do love 'em.

So, I'm in love with goodreads.com.  I love it.  And, I challenged myself to read 1,000 books this year.  Trust me, once I get on house arrest I'll really have time to read.  Fun.
Anyway, I just finished Cinder by Marissa Meyer, and I really, really loved it.  I know it's one of those things - that "Cinderella Story" thing - but I think I'm a sucker for that, which is probably why I loved it so much.  But it was a nice change after reading City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, not that that wasn't a fun book too, but it wasn't as well written as Cinder.  The crappy thing about this most recent book is that there won't be a sequel until 2013.  Trust me, even though it says "cyborg" in the summary, it's worth a read.  It's fun, sad, romantic, etc.
Anyway, I hit writer's block and cleaned the crap out of the basement.  One of the kids had shoved a bunch of toys/garbage/dishes under the futon I sleep on, so gutted it, sorted everything, and moved the furniture around.  It really looks like a bedroom now.  I set up the futon so that we can put it up when the boys want to play video games, and I can put it back down when I want to sleep.  Billy Collins said it, though.  Cleaning really does get the writing juices flowing.  I've been feeling inspired now for about an hour.  Woot.
I think listening to books is as important as reading them for me.  Sometimes my internal voice gets so jumbled up with my vision of a story that I can't think in words anymore, so when I try to write, I can see the story but I can't put it into words.  I'm not sure that makes any sense, but I know what I mean, and I'm the only one that reads these posts anyway.
I know I should sleep, but I really don't actually want to, and I'm not sure if I should.  I'm afraid that if I do, I'll lose all these words that are piling up inside of me.  I really don't want to go to church tomorrow either, and if I sleep, then it'll be morning and I'll have to go...
Anyway, enough.
Let me make one promise though.  I will never write about robots.  There are only a few people in the whole flipping world that can pull that off without making me want to vomit.  Marissa, let me just say, you are one of them.  Thanks for the story.

My Lament

There's a Motion City Soundtrack song called "Even If It Kills Me", and it has been my anthem for about a month. "I'm not saying that I'm giving up, I'm just trying not to think as much as I used to, cause 'never' is a lonely little messed up word. Maybe I'll get it right someday. For the first time in a long time, I can say that I want to try. I feel helpless for the most part, but I'm ready to open my eyes. And the sad truth of the matter is I'll never get over it but I'm going to try to get better and overcome each moment in my own way. I sure want to get back on track, and I'll do whatever it takes even if it kills me."
Since the moment I clicked on that button that says "Drop" on enRoll, and watched my classes just melt away, I have felt uncomfortably free. The only things that weigh me down are student loans. But that's it. Student loans to a college drop out are like getting kicked while you're down. Just thinking about how much I have in debt makes me feel like I'm being crushed. I've already decided not to go back next semester, because I don't care how many pills they give me, I don't believe they're going to fix the fact that I'm a terrible student (I love school, but I really am a less than ideal college student).
What has been so awful, though, is this jarring realization that tends to interrupt my "planning" moments. I'll be thinking about something, then realize I can't do that thing because I can't afford it, or I'll be thinking about a job that I would love, and then I realize, "They won't hire me...I don't have a degree." Then add in the whole narcolepsy thing, and I'm basically looking at being a comments operator for the rest of my life.
Here is where the hope is, because there has always been hope in that tiny fraction of my heart that Jesus lives in. The life I've dreamed of having, the one where I have nothing and live everywhere, is going to happen.
I told Ben that I wanted to become an apostle. His response, of course, was that I can't be an apostle because I'm a woman, followed by his funny snicker. My response, "Screw that. I love Jesus." But if I didn't tell you, grab you and shake you with my excitement, I am doing it. I'm leaving (temporarily). This is the beginning of my life, and the life I'm starting looks completely awesome. Brilliant, really.
So, you may be reading this thinking, "You're young. You have plenty of time to do school and all of that stuff." And you're right. I forget how "young" I actually am, and I think part of that is because the last...oh, I don't know...7 years have been really difficult. They have aged me in so many ways that sometimes I can't help thinking that reaching 30 will really be an accomplishment, and if I do live to be 30, then I'm sure I'll be nuts. Whatever. We'll see, I guess.
I'm going to start giving my stuff away (except the computer and the PS2...and maybe some of my books). Take it. That's my new anthem.